Hello friends!
There are a number of holidays going round this time of year and I don’t presume that everyone celebrates under one banner, so best just to say that I hope everyone doing whatever they’ve been doing in December so far has been having a fun and fab time.
NEWS
Maybe the biggest thing announced of direct relevance to us is the “pause” for one year of The Fest. Mark Lapidos, 77, made official the word out that they will be taking off 2026 in order to recharge for the two traditional gatherings in New Jersey and Chicago in 2027. This might be a good time to consider what its eventual retirement may mean to the diehards that make it an annual tradition: not only missing out on whatever guests you may hope to see, but also the connection with friends that you may only see this one time a year. Hopefully, one day something may replace it but that’s not yet happened and for all the authors and musicians who make the event a regular ritual, 2026 will represent a sizable hole in their schedule.
The biggest takeaway from the CBS Sean interview posted in last week’s newsletter got legs online: his perception that, absent the work people like him are doing to keep the memory of The Beatles (and John and Yoko) alive, newer generations are likely to forget about or never know them. To this, he has added clarity…
OBITS
As last week’s newsletter went to press, word of the passing of Chris Rea came. The British blues/rock artist was 74 and in poor health through the years, suffering from cancer, diabetes and a succession of strokes. He’s probably best known to most for his 1978 hit, “Fool (If You Think It’s Over),” a soft rock confection that in no way represented his artistry. To begin with, much of his renown comes from his slide guitar playing, which this track does not feature. It was a fluke that the song - intended as an offering to Al Green - got the attention it did and Rea tended to be dismissive of it. More representative is his biggest hit, 1989’s “The Road To Hell,” a far different animal. Given his musicality - his smoky voice singing original material commenting on all sorts of non-pop song subjects, plus his skills on slide, AND a love for Formula One racing, it seems astonishing that he and Hari Georgeson never connected in any way (that I could find, anyway), but they seemed like kindred spirits. You can read more about him here if you are inclined.
Then there’s someone very much connected to Beatles lore: Brigitte Bardot, French sex icon who wielded an influence on the boys during their formative years.
It’s John who for very good reasons bore the biggest connection, so it’s interesting that she went unmentioned by him in this profile as if for the sake of contrariness. In his own words (published in Skywriting By Word of Mouth): “Of course as a teenager, my sexual fantasies were full of Anita Ekberg and the usual giant Nordic goddesses. That is, until Brigitte Bardot became the “love of my life” in the late Fifties. All my girlfriends who weren’t dark-haired suffered under my constant pressure to become Brigitte. By the time I married my first wife (who was, I think, a natural auburn), she too had become a long-haired blonde with the obligatory bangs. Met the real Brigitte a few years later. I was on acid and she was on her way out.”
It’s that last remark that bears further scrutiny, because the encounter, managed by Derek Taylor, was recounted in Pete Shotton’s wonderful book in full detail. For context, it came during that time where John seemed to be having some kind of breakdown, between Rishikesh and the start of the “White Album” sessions. You can read more about the subject here. Bardot was 91 (a year younger than Yoko as it happens).
HISTORY
December 27, 1960: The Beatles played their first Litherland Town Hall gig.
NOT an actual poster for the gig, but an incredible simulation
Their third show after Hamburg (first the Casbah, and then the Grosvenor Ballroom happened) has gone down legend as THE game-changer. This date has long been recounted as the night where John, Paul, George and Pete discovered their superpowers as performers, when the crowd (the venue held 1500) - instead of dancing, as expected - reacted with stunned astonishment and gathered close to the stage to watch them "Mach schau!" Because Paul hadn't yet made the move to bass yet, they were augmented on this evening by Chas Newby. Born one year to the day before Paul, this left-hander was a veteran of Pete's former group, The Blackjacks. Unlike the others, while he liked a good time as much as anyone, he was on break from university and knew that performing as a livelihood was not in the cards for him going forward.
Recall the demoralized state the group were in following their first German sojourn: after honing their act and then defecting from Bruno Koschmider's Kaiserkellar for Peter Eckhorn's more prestigious Top Ten Club, revenge came swiftly: underage George (17) was deported, then Paul and Pete spent time in a jail cell (for arson) before being likewise booted out of the country. Stuart had decided to remain behind with Astrid to study art, leaving a dispirited John to make his way home on his own. At this juncture back at home, any future Beatling looked exceedingly remote - they did not even contact each other at first.
Then, good fortune came in the form of Bob Wooler - not yet the Cavern deejay. Allan Williams had opened up a Liverpool club that he named after the Hamburg Top Ten club; exactly a week after it opened, it mysteriously burned to the ground, leaving Wooler without work. It was Williams who put The Beatles in touch with Wooler, who booked them at the Litherland Town Hall as a sort of try-out. They were not known on the northside of Liverpool, and with head-to-toe black appearance, leather jackets and cowboy boots, they looked nothing like the locals. Therefore, when they were billed as "direct from Hamburg," most attendees accepted that they were in fact a German act. ("You speak very good English" was the line used in describing the feedback they received.)
With nothing left to lose and any collective future still in doubt, the fivesome let loose like there was no tomorrow. As John noted, "It was that evening that we really came out of our shell and let go. We stood there being cheered for the first time. This was when we began to think that we were good. Up to Hamburg we’d thought we were OK, but not good enough. It was only back in Liverpool that we realized the difference and saw what had happened to us while everyone else was playing Cliff Richard shit."
Recalled the aptly-named Newby later: "The audience were expecting to dance while the band minced about on stage providing sterile music. They were not prepared for the band to perform on stage, assaulting them with noise and excitement.
The reaction was swift, the dancing evaporated and the audience clamored around the stage to watch and react to a performance...The other guys had their cowboy boots, but I was wearing normal shoes. My lasting memory was that my feet hurt from all the stamping on stage. Happy days."
Such was the reception that promoter Brian Kelly kept them in steady work while they were in town, given their intent to return to West Germany once George was legal (after February 1961).
(It is commonly believed that they opened their set with "Long Tall Sally" - a tune that looms large in their legend.)
December 30, 2016: Allan Williams passed away on this day in 2016.
He was 86. In some tellings of The Beatles' story, his role in their success story has been reduced to a mere "booking agent." While claiming as large a part in their success as Brian's or George Martin's would be an obvious overstatement, his passing prompted the most succinct summary of his importance (by Lewisohn): "No Allan Willams - no Hamburg. No Hamburg - no Beatles."
Williams was a Liverpool businessman/hustler; always on the look out for opportunities to make the big score. A big part of his reputation as constantly on the make comes from his 1975 memoir, The Man Who Gave The Beatles Away - a wonderfully graphic and laugh-out-loud hilarious telling of the Liverpool-Hamburg pre-Brian years. Though the book is best classified as historical fiction, given Williams and his co-writer's penchant for exaggeration, if not outright falsehood (the Stuart-was-so-bad-he-played-with-his-back-to-the-audience hearsay began here and only makes sense to a non-musician), it remains a lively and entertaining account of their formative years that desperately cries out for a cinematic treatment.
Williams gave the raw up-and-comers a leg up when possible: it was he who set in motion the audition for backing Billy Fury on tour (and instead getting Johnny Gentle in Scotland); he who provided gigs when they were down on their luck (including musical support for Janice the stripper); he who employed the art students of the bunch to paint murals at the Jacaranda; he who pushed open the door to the Hamburg bookings that made them, and who personally transported them down there for their first stint; he who ponied up for their first proper recording date with Ringo (in Hamburg).
But given tendencies that would become a pattern, The Beatles did not respond with the requisite gratitude and stiffed him out of the owed commission for arranging the bookings. It was this action that prompted Williams to tell Brian Epstein straight up, when the latter was conducting due diligence, "I wouldn't touch them with a fucking barge pole."
Not seen in the Get Back series (unfortunately): Williams (upper right) visiting Apple Studios
Still, Williams stayed friendly with them through the years. He can be heard on tape dropping by the Let It Be sessions (and asking John to write a foreword to his book). Williams did receive a belated due payment of sorts when he visited George and Ringo during the 1970s, receiving a handful of raw rubies. (George had a Krishna acquaintance who was attempting to interest him in the purchase of an Indian ruby mine and brought him samples.) More importantly, in a tale stranger than fiction, it was Williams who rescued the Star Club tapes from certain destruction. (See this 1973 BBC clip.)
Williams spent his golden years around Liverpool (when not traveling the world to appear at Beatle fan gatherings) as the raconteur he always was at heart, regaling fans with stories for the price of a drink. He was a colorful, larger than life figure who, if he didn't exactly get the esteem he should have for his part in their success, surely made a kind of peace with it and reveled in the attention.
SATB 2025
This year I produced 19 episodes plus a few specials:
SATB SPECIAL: Power to WHAT People? with Candy Leonard
Pending:
SATB Special: Badfinger/Iveys Reissue series with Mark Strothmann
317: The Help! Sessions with Walter Everett, Cameron Greider and Jack Petruzzelli
SATB Special: Beatles Artist Eric Cash
Then there is the Classic Rock Album Olympics podcast series with Gary Wenstrup, now 13 episodes deep. Also this year, I was a guest on more podcasts than I can probably remember right this minute. Here are some (most? all?) of them:
That’s a lot of talking! But there’s so much to examine, analyze, discuss and explore in Beatle world, I cannot fathom stopping anytime soon (but you never know…). So until the day comes when I reach the point of utter boredom (which is unimaginable), we’re gonna keep on keepin’ on. My thanks to everyone who listens to SATB, has appeared on it, and who’s been supporting it all these years. Your kind notes are like oxygen and keep everything going. In 2026, and with the things we’ve talked about, I see more opportunity to engage and keep the discussion going. Conversations is how this show started and that’s what will keep it moving forward.
May you all have a better New Year than previous and find ways to keep joy in your lives.
All best,
RR
Enjoying the podcast? Say so here
Got an issue? Tell me here:
Subject: Feedback
Socials: